A First Taste of Provence

 I first visited France - and in particular the French city of my mother's heritage: Cannes - while deployed with the United States Ship BULKELEY (DDG 84) in July 2006.  Much to my surprise, we ported at Cannes, France (of the "Film Festival" fame) and I began my Navy career in the hometown of my mother.  As I polished my Navy White's and marched down the gangplank with my Captain, I could not help but feel proud of my return to my mother's country.

I had spent years mastering the French language, making my mother proud at the expense of my proud Italian father and now, I would finally set foot on the ground of my favorite country.  As I put my foot on French soil, I felt so much joy, felt the shake of Napoleon, felt the anguish of the Vichy oppressed that I had studied obessively for years.  I saw myself a foreign military servant on French soil.  I nearly collapsed with the reflections of our significance.  But there was a loud voice shouting in French from the crowd.  His hair was dirty and in dreds.  He was blonde and gorgeous without his shirt.  His son sat atop his shoulders as they cheered the small party including my Captain )J. T. Beaver, Jr.) and maybe ten of us.  As we passed, the small boy on his father's shoulders asked, "Qui sont-ils?" (Who are they)  To that question, his father responded, "Les heros."  Heroes?  Yes.  I had been misinformed about the French reception to American troops.  Thus began my love affair with the French people.

After a lengthy introduction between both Captain John Beaver, Jr. and Bernard Brochand, the Commanding Officer of USS BULKELEY (DDG 84) and the Mayor of Cannes - both of which I was happy to translate in the best way that I could - the dinner party commenced.  

Applauding the Mayor's speech before being called to translate.

At the center of the table, across from the Captain of the USS BULKELEY (DDG 84) speaking with the officials of the city of Cannes, France.  

This was the happiest moment of my life.  

Furthermore, throughout the following week, I was expected to give tours (in French) to the police from Cannes.  These were some of the most gracious people I had ever met.  The veterans of French Foreign Wars came aboard and the whole affair was a hoopla!  At the age of 19, what boy could be more proud of himself yet remain so humble?

We eventually left France, but during this military visit, I made many friends, saw many things, ate many meals and, damn it, I got the recipes to many!  My first leave period did NOT begin with me going home to visit family.  It started with my vacation in and study of Provence.

Introduction

I began my life as the son of an Italian father and a French mother.  That description isn't sufficient for the Mediterranean citizen even though the Mediterranean is the common allegiance of its inhabitants.  In France, my mother's side of the family, we emerge from Provence.  In Italy, my father's side of the family, Naples is the city of his filthy origin.  And filthy it is!

Naples has a bad reputation among Italians.  My grandmother told me that Naples is "under attack" for its "dirtiness."  By that, I was led to believe that Neapolitans were criminals, Mafia-infested, and dirty.  When I finally got a chance to visit, I got the impression that the Neapolitans were anything but dirty!  Certainly the critics of Italian cleanliness have never visited America in the 20th or 21st Centuries!

Having found no truth to the stereotypes, I was ready to sit down at the ristorante.

 I got to experience a good deal of of extraordinary food and good will with some zuppe di pesce!  My connection with my family and its roots began there and then.

I KNOW!  You've come here to discuss the food of Provence and not that of Southern Italy.  The two are not as mutually exclusive as you would think and I've devoted a great deal of time to the study of their connection.

As this is an introduction, I expect that people will read this after they've tried the recipes.  I must contend that the recipes are the main character of this project.  To eat good and fulfilling cultural food is the experience I wish to share with all of humanity.  The story behind my discovery of these recipes is secondary, but nonetheless interesting.

I have visited the city my father came from many times, Naples.  I have only once visited my mother's hometown of Cannes.  It is less her town than her region that I am interested in and have been to so many times to try and learn something about myself.  I have learned much in the several years I spent in both Italy and France and the many visits I paid.

This blog is devoted to the French culture, its influence on my mother's family and on myself, and the connection it has with many Italian dishes.  This is a love letter to the Provencals and their way of live; to my French and Italian language instructors - my parents and the public school teachers - to the United States Navy and to the curiosity that spurs me on from decade to decade.  I love you all.

Special thanks to Leigh Philon.  She FINALLY made the French language comprehensible to me after so many instructors turned a blind eye to me.  

This ins't just my story...it's OUR story!